Breaking My Kneecaps
by dazzley
Summary: Brooklyn doesn't deal well with his first defeat, not well at all. Oneshot.


He staggers through the hallway without perceiving anything around him. There are people everywhere, girls with ribbons trailing through their thick hair and boys pulling out beyblades and declaring battle on one another. Laughter rings through the BEGA building like wind chimes blowing in the wind, and talk is loud and constant. But to him, the hallway is long and empty; there is only the sound of his own footsteps shuffling and the beating of his own heart.

Thump, thump, thump.

A young girl stares up at him for a moment; her eyes widen when she digests his ragged state, but he doesn't stop to console her. He doesn't _see_ her. She's nothing but an abysmal shadow in the corner of his eye. He turns down another hall toward an unknown destination – he doesn't even know where he's headed. But he has to get away, away, away. Away from the Beydome and away from all of those _people_. And him – him!

Him, him…_him_.

Brooklyn presses his back against the wall of an empty hallway and looks up at the ceiling. The lights blur in his vision, and seem to smear together across the blue. He's laughing a little bit, just a soft chuckling that can't be heard very well unless you're listening very carefully. The lights blur a little more as Brooklyn slides down the wall, his feet splaying out beneath him as he goes.

He had _lost_ – he had lost to _him_. He can still see it in his mind, Kai standing before him with blood pouring out of cuts on his lips and face. They had been so _red_ - pomegranate, so bright and blooming with color. The stagger in his step as he approached the dish had been wonderful and his labored breathing had been music to Brooklyn's ears. He had been losing. Kai was the one who had been losing. He should have lost. He was defeated. Defeated!

… His _body_ had been totally defeated. But his eyes. His _eyes_.

Brooklyn laughs a little louder and clenches his teeth together as he indulges into his most recent memory. Those eyes had possessed nothing but determination; right to the very end. He hates them. He can't stand seeing them – he can't look at it anymore, even in his mind. His eyes shoot open only to meet those merging lights again. Why are they doing that? Brooklyn laughs some more and drags his nails across the floor, almost tearing one off by pressing too hard.

Kai's body had been defeated, but not his spirit. He had not been able to crush Kai like the first time the bladed because Kai no longer had anything to lose – he had given it his all. Brooklyn hates that spirit – he _hates_ Kai. This feeling squeezes his heart and Brooklyn _laughs_.

Garland is the one who finds him sitting there, and only because the hallways have cleared. There was another beybattle was going on. Who wants to stay in the halls when there's a beybattle going on? He could hear the laughter through the heavy silence.

When Brooklyn sees Garland, he sees nothing but a stranger. When Garland sees Brooklyn, he sees his friend laughing and crying at the same time. The tears are slow and close together, and Brooklyn doesn't seem to be blinking. Garland doesn't think Brooklyn realizes he's crying though his mental breakdown. In fact, Brooklyn doesn't seem to realize much of anything at all.

"Brook-" Garland starts, but before he knows it, BEGA handymen are pushing past him toward the white-clad teen. Brooklyn doesn't fight them off as they grab his arms and hoist him up. His laughter merely increases and he shudders, like he's been constricted by an unknown force. And to him, he has. The lights are blurring and unblurring, and now they're moving. Garland follows the men from behind and keeps a safe distance.

Brooklyn is tossed inside of a room with no windows and no light.

Darkness, darkness, darkness.

They seal the door and leave him inside, and Garland paces in the hallway outside. He can't hear anything from inside. But inside, Brooklyn hears many things. He hears the chanting of the crowd. They're loud, and they're everywhere. "I'm the best… I've never lost!" Brooklyn says, a twinge of panic threaded into his voice. But the crowd disagrees.

"Kai, Kai, Kai!" they chant. Brooklyn throws his fist into the wall and feels the pain of impact, but doesn't care. "No ,no_, __**no**_!" he yells now, "Kai – he's not perfect! He's not, he's not! I've never lost-!" Now he's looking around frantically for Kai in the darkness, "Where are you!? Where!?" But he can't find him.

"You may have beaten Kai once," says a voice, "but he doesn't ever give up! He's the type of guy who keeps trying, you know?" Brooklyn whips around and brushes the bangs out of his eyes, "Who said that!? Where did you go? Come back!" But that voice is gone, replaced by another. "Yeah, I know. Brooklyn doesn't stand a chance this time around!" Who is this? Brooklyn can't remember. He's heard these voices before. Where were they coming from!?

"C'mon, Kai! Show this guy who the boss _really_ is!" shouts a new voice, wanting to get his say into the throw. "I'll show _him," _Brooklyn gripes, "_Me_! It's me! I'm the one who is going to win!" He presses his back against the wall and peers into the darkness, trying to pinpoint the speakers. Or at least one. He wants to tell them to their face that he is going to win, he's the best. But there's no one there.

Nothing but his thoughts.

Everything finally falls silent. He's alone with his breathing again and he steps forward, "I… I…lose…lost…" He can barely say the words, can't digest them. The burning in his throat is nothing compared to the burning in his head. It throbs.

"Nngh!" he whimpers, and drops down to one knee. It's a slow burn in his mind with a heavy pounding to match. He presses his fingers to his forehead and then presses his palms against his temples. "Go away go away _go away_," he whispers, but his pleas go unanswered. The strings begin to snap and he twists away from the pain. But that does nothing. They're inside his mind, these strings, and he cannot escape them. They stretch and … ping! Snap! And the burning is amplified.

He bites his bottom lip and tastes the coppery blood. Out it goes – he spits. Only he doesn't spit far enough and the bloody saliva trails down his mouth and chin. He winces and tries to wipe it away with his fingers, but only manages to spread the saliva. Finally, he uses the back of his white sleeve to wipe everything away. It stains the shirt, droplets of bloody saliva and blood from his bite. Then the ringing begins. It starts in his ears and travels down his spine, shaking his body and nerves to the tip. "W-What is this ringing?"

Brooklyn moves back against the wall and brings his legs up to his chest, his arms wrapping around them for a sense of security. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and sweat drips down the curve of his back. He doesn't realize it, but he's shaking. "Don't come near me…" he's saying now, "Stay away!" And it seems his ghosts decide to listen to his cries, because he falls silent for a little while.

Finally, he begins to laugh again. But it's a pathetic sound; it's more of a cry than a laugh. Green eyes grow dim as he stares into the darkness more, allowing himself to be consumed into the abyss. He's alone now.

Alone, alone, _alone._

Garland presses his ear against the door yet hears nothing. But he does hear the footsteps quickly approaching him from behind. He turns and sees Coach Kinomiya – the man who is related to one Takao Kinomiya. The man who had probably spent the most time with Brooklyn out of all of them. Garland opens his mouth to speak to the older man but Hitoshi brushes him off, "Get out of my way, Garland."

What else can he do? He moves from the door and Hitoshi swipes a card. The door flashes a green light and slides open. Brooklyn looks up at the one who has entered his dark room and freezes. It's Kai, and he's staring at Brooklyn with a frown. Brooklyn tries to back up to get away from the demon but it's useless, he's already at the wall. "_You_! Get away – _get away_!"

Kai lifts his blade launcher and Brooklyn screams.

Garland pounds his fist against the door. He can hear these screams – they're terrible. And worst of all… they aren't screams Garland would call sane. He turns away and swallows. He knows what he has to do.

He has to find Takao Kinomiya. Fast.

Fin.

**A/N: **Hi, guys! I hoped you liked this little story from… mostly Brooklyn's point of view with a little Garland thrown in there for a different take. I was experimenting with writing in a more floral manner but I don't know if I managed to get that across. I wanted to paint a picture with words or something. I don't know, I'm silly. Anyway! This is always kind of how I pictured Brooklyn's total emotional breakdown. He's a character I really like, despite the fact he is a Mary-Sue, and I never see enough fic focusing on this moment. Uhmmm. Comments and Reviews are always welcome! Thanks for reading!


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